Slipping Away
by Zodiac Sefirosu
Summary: Why did he have to train Sho in the first place? Looking back, it was completely unnecessary. However, he supposed that this was a fitting punishment for not placing his trust in his Composer as he should have...


Another drabble-thing from my H blog. This one was based off of the ImagineyourOTP's blog prompt of 'Imagine your OTP grasping hands one last time as person A fades away from wounds that they sustained by saving person B.' So yeah, there's character death in here.

* * *

No, no, no, no. This was all wrong. This wasn't supposed to happen, not to Sanae, not to either of them. He was supposed to be stronger than this, supposed to not be able to let this happen. All those things that were supposed to be possible instantly fell, just as the injured Angel had.

Perhaps it was the poison of hubris that had caused him to underestimate just how strong the Taboo-tainted assault would be. Maybe it was a simple miscalculation, the slightest of slips in his step that made the strike hit true rather than land a glancing blow. It might have simply been the universe's way of saying he should cease to exist.

Regardless of what exactly caused it, Sanae Hanekoma was now laying in a crumpled heap on the floor, blood flowing from a no-doubt fatal gash in his side, Taboo taint biting at the edges of the wound, preventing his holy powers from simply stitching it up. All of the pain roaring through his body mixed with all of the blood loss fogged his mind, keeping him from focusing enough to just blast the unholy influence from his body. Unable to do much, he tried to keep the air from irritating his exposed innards too badly while he thought of how this had come about.

The Angel had just sent the newly-revived Sho on his way to try to stop Joshua from eliminating Shibuya. After several moments of debating to himself, he decided to accompany him, if only to make sure that he would actually follow through with it. However, once the fight had begun, he couldn't help but throw himself into the fray as well, trying to protect his Composer. Unfortunately, he had severely underestimated the full powers of this new Sho, causing him to be clawed by the lion's large nails, tainting him with Taboo energies simultaneously. Joshua had managed to pin his attacker down with a well-placed vending machine and rushed over to his downed Producer.

The teen dropped to his knees beside the older man who was paralyzed in his place. Small fingers reached out to the bare ribs that could easily be seen, avoiding the lung that expanded and contracted weakly, aiming to try to eliminate the Taboo infesting his companion. However, as soon as his hand came near it, it was swatted away by the Angel.

"Only Angels can get rid of Taboo. You'll just end up tainting yourself too." He replied stubbornly, arm flopping back down to the floor. Ragged pants were interspersed between labored breaths, oxygen draining out of his body just like the crimson fluid leaking from his veins.

"Then what am I supposed to do?!" The Composer snapped back, rare emotion leaking out for the world to see. Shaking hands balled themselves up into fists and he gritted his teeth, unable to accept that he could do nothing.

Hidden eyes glanced off to a side, not wanting to see that his current state was the cause of his Composer's sorrow. "Nothing." He admitted reluctantly after a few moments, mouth barely able to form the words entailing his departure from this world. "Nothing can be done for me."

Pale hands clenched at the other's torn and ripped work shirt tightly, gripping it as though it would keep his Producer grounded in this plane of existence. "B-but… I, you…"

"Shhh…" The older man shushed the distraught teen, reaching out with one of his callused hands to hold his smaller one, gently brushing his thumb against the boy's knuckles. "No buts."

The blonde whined softly, leaning down to nuzzle at the large hand enveloping his own. "W-what am I supposed to do without you, my most loyal Producer?"

The Angel gave his closest friend a weak smile, feeling his life close to ebbing away completely now. "You already know what you should do." His other hand lifted up to the back of the ashen head, pulling it closer so he could bestow a goodbye peck on his forehead. Warm lips lingered there for a moment before parting to remind him of what he should do.

"Enjoy the moment…" And with those final words, the Composer felt the hand holding his vanish, familiar warmth surrounding him dissipating as his friend, his Producer, perhaps more, left his side that he had promised he would stay by, forever.


End file.
